


Eyes

by GintokisGirl95



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Challenges are Fun, F/M, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Starkcest, Tags Are Hard, Tags Are the Work of the Devil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:26:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7978309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GintokisGirl95/pseuds/GintokisGirl95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A pair of eyes saw a lot. Too much, in fact....but they couldn't stop watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Write another story, they said. It'll be fun, they said. 
> 
> And it was. This was so much fun to write.

He cannot understand why the sight of them together turns him on so much.

He cannot be bothered to explain why they look so perfect together, so appealing, so alluring…so intimate. They look so alike: They have the same Stark features, the same grey eyes their father possesses, the same dark hair, the same facial and bone structure, and the same pale, pale skin. They were the only ones out of the children that had the Stark look. 

He is almost jealous of the way they still stare at each other with eyes so penetrating, they were so much in awe, so deeply moved by the other's presence. Looking at them makes him feel like an intruder, staring into the lives of two strangers who were deeply in love. 

He's supposed to barge in and put a stop to the madness. He's supposed to grab Jon and punch him in the face until it was raw and bloody for violating his little Arya, he knows…but his body is cemented in place and is refusing to budge. Why is his hand in his breeches, and when did he loosen them? He was supposed to be disgusted, not intrigued! 

Robb turns his head from the left to the right to make sure no one would be around to somehow catch them...or him. 

He pauses when he sees Jon make the first move, his lips capturing hers with such tenderness, only to move away to kiss every part of her face, her eyelids, forehead, cheeks, then shifting further to the hollow of her throat.

"Oh, Jon, _yes_!" Arya is moaning so loudly that Robb thinks Sansa may hear, but her hips are meeting with his mouth, following the rolling rhythmic movement of Jon's tongue with her head snapped back in pure bliss, a smile of ecstasy written all over her face. He could see Jon slowly, tantalisingly attacking Arya's mound, her juices nearly dripping from his chin. 

"Jon!" She gasps, her hands moving down and grabbing a fistful of his curly hair. "Oh, gods, _more_."

He continues his attack, his mouth lingering over her, licking, sucking, touching every part of her cunt until she reached her peak. She shudders, legs tightening around him, her chest heaving synchronously with each shake. He hears the soft thud of her head as it falls back against the pillows.

He swallows every bit his tongue could lap up, and he pulls himself back up to meet her eyes, his gaze lingering and full of lust. 

"By all the Gods, you taste incredible," Jon says in a hushed tone, kissing her squarely on the lips. 

"I still need you," Arya whispers, almost so quietly that Robb did not hear. She ran her hand down to his breeches, releasing his hard cock from the restraints of his clothing. "And I can tell that you need me, too."

"Are you sure?" Jon asks. 

"Jon, just... _please_."

He pulls her on top of him, widening her legs to get a feel of her. He finds her entrance, teasing her with small thrusts and twists of his fingers, but shocks her when he pulls his fingers away and slips in her cunt with his cock, and with such ease. Her eyes widen and she lets out a half-moan, half-gasp of his name. 

Robb didn't know that she was capable of sounding so girly. Each whine, moan, and the way she begs him to love her is nearly enough for him to come undone. 

_Jon, you lucky bastard._

" _Deeper_ ," she begs, and he was compliant, pushing into her until he nearly filled her, and she gasps. She quickens her pace, going deeper each time until Jon halted her. She pauses abruptly, staring at her brother with eyes glazed with lust. 

Jon's Stark-grey gaze focuses only on her, watching her body, her breasts bouncing with every movement she made. Jon reaches for her, taking a gentle hold of the small of her back, pulling her down so he could bite her breasts as she continued moving, her nipples becoming erect with each tease of his tongue and teeth. Her eyes roll serenely and her head lolls, her hasty actions being slowed down to a halt by Jon's hand on her hip.

" _Slow_ , Arya," Jon rasps, guiding her with his hands. "I want -- _need_ \-- to feel you. All of you."

He saw how her creamy arousal coated their brother's broad cock, seeing his eyes close while he arches his back and then snaps open again when he pushes himself into her so slowly. 

_They've done this before,_ crosses Robb's mind. 

Jon tells her things, sweet things, sweet nothings. _You're so beautiful, Gods, you're amazing, I love you so much,_ among many others. For some reason he feels jealous of that, too. 

Before he knew it, Robb's hand was stroking his cock with the same pace as Jon was loving Arya. _Gods damn it all…why is this so hot?_

He wondered if he should hate the Old Gods and the Seven for not allowing his body to move. If Jon and Arya find out he's there, the intimacy would be ruined for them, perhaps forever, and he could not stop himself from thinking that he does not want that. They've always had a special bond...

With burning lungs begging for air, Robb spills his seed in his breeches long before Jon had, but at the same time as Arya. With just a few more thrusts, Jon slips himself out of Arya and plants his cock against her thigh, watching his come run down her leg as she weakly stood. 

"I'll wipe you off," he said, still trying to catch his breath. 

"Just get me a rag," Arya's voice is breathless and so obviously satisfied. "I can do it."

After he passes her the towel and after she wipes his seed from her skin, he gives her a kiss - a passionate, lover's kiss - and embraces her, hands at the waist to pull her in deeper. By the time Robb began to rise and starts leave, he hears them tell each other that they loved one another. Robb wonders if he'll find someone like that, someone to love the way Jon loves Arya. 

He decided to keep their secret safe...just this once. _Just this once._


	2. Even Ice Can Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter is in her veins, but she's on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I was asked to, here you go...it's Sansa this time. I revised the ending -- thanks to everyone and their feedback! :)
> 
> Note: Any mistakes are mine, since I do not have a beta.

Sansa finds herself awake in the night with a terribly dry throat, so she heads to the kitchens to fetch herself a glass of water. With the dryness finally quenched, she is going to her room to lay back down and rest once more, but the sounds coming from Maester Luwin's library is enough to catch her fancy. 

She takes the winding steps to his library and peeks through the door that is left ajar. She sees something that she could not ever expect to see in her lifetime: Jon and Arya, naked and together. She should feel disgusted -- _they are brother and sister_ \-- but it doesn't surprise her as much as it should. Jon is kissing her and she is squirming underneath his touch, her eyes closed and her moans filling the otherwise empty room. Arya's half-laying on the desk, old books and previously read letters surrounding her, and Jon pushes himself up to admire her. 

"Gods, you are so beautiful," he says breathlessly after they part, running his hand up the curve of her left hip, and Arya only chuckles. To Sansa, she sounds much more womanly, more sensual, more seductive, even, and that voice was only for Jon. Jon, who had his back turned and his naked form exposed as he holds Arya close. " _So_ beautiful."

"How often are you going to tell me that?" She asks with her voice so husky, her dark grey eyes brightening with humour, with love, with adulation. Sansa finds her expressions shocking; she hadn't been open nor has she exhibited many emotions at all since they made their way back to Winterfell. She suddenly feels a harsh pang of jealousy when she knows that she would only communicate fully with Jon, but now she is on her knees, watching everything unfold in front of her as if it were a play written only for lovers to experience. 

"As often as it takes for you to understand how I see you," Jon replies, kissing her sweetly. He pulls himself up and he holds his hand out for her to take, which she does graciously. "Rise, Arry."

Without a second thought, he backs and pins Arya against the cold, stone wall, bombarding her with a flurry of kisses. He nudges his leg between her own, his hand moving painstakingly slow down to her heat, causing her to jerk her head back in ecstasy, her moans and gasps loud in Jon's ear. He only pulls away when she is wet enough, separating his fingers to show her the thick substance that veiled his fingers.

He raises one of her legs, and with his free hand, he guides himself into her entrance, slowly pushing until she winces from the pain. Sansa cranes her neck to see Jon move leisurely against her, seeing his hard cock pace languidly in and out of her. She watches his facial expressions, from the pained look to that of awe, then she sees his dark eyes close, peace written on his handsome face. 

"I can't get enough of you," she heard Arya say, and he only laughed in response, his grin dashing.

"That is what it is like to be in love," Sansa hears him whisper in response. "You'll get used to it after a while, I promise."

She finds it almost insulting that the Gods had such a terrible sense of humour -- the one who forever dreamt of knights and princes and big marriages was forever tormented by a mad Baratheon and the girl who rejected everything Sansa longed for is being treated like gold by someone who truly is a prince...in his own right. She would laugh if the realisation didn't hurt so much. 

She couldn't stop the jealousy, but she also couldn't stop her cheeks from being aflame while watching their intimacy. _They love each other,_ she thought, and she wonders how long they've been…together. Sansa covers her mouth to stifle her moans, running her middle finger -- and soon another -- through her folds with her free hand, feeling the ever-increasing wetness that coated her digits. 

Jon's hands are all over Arya as she bent over on the desk, legs spread wide. Even from afar Sansa can see just how wet she is, and she groans softly, rubbing harder and boldly at her bundle of nerves, feeling her fast approaching build up. Jon bends her head to kiss her while he fills her repeatedly, his hands full of her sable-coloured hair.

"I want you to say my name," Jon demands. 

"Jon," she moans his name as if it was a prayer of some sort. "Oh gods, _Jon._ "

"Again, love, again." Jon's quickening his pace and Sansa follows, fingers twisting and turning until they were completely coated in her arousal. "I love it when you say my name, beloved."

There is nothing in the air but the sounds of skin slapping against skin and their mixed grunts and moans as well as Arya's sobs of pleasure. Arya pants like a wolf as Jon slams into her and she also cries out his name and it's nearly too much for Sansa to bear.

_I shouldn't like this…but gods, it's good...so good…_

"I want to hear you _howl_."

And Arya does, sounding more like her direwolf companion than a human, and with a final thrust, Jon spills his seed, rocking his hips lazily into her, gently biting her shoulder as he did so. Sansa is close, so close…until she shifts and her foot manages to knock over the glass she once had in her hand. She stares at the clinking object in horror, and Jon perks his head up, squinting at the cracked door, slowly pulling his cock out of Arya. She grunts again and Jon sends her a _look._

"Did you hear that?" His eyes switch quickly from his passionate, intimate gaze with Arya to a look so guarded and cautious.

"Hear what?" Arya asks in a daze. 

"Sounded a bit like...a glass falling or something. Let me see." Jon releases his hold on Arya's body, only to hastily throw on his pants and he heads to the door slowly.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why did I take that damned thing with me?! _She curses herself, rising, grabbing the tipped glass and bolting down the curved stairs. She caught her breath and soon held it, hiding behind her door.__

__"Do you see anything?" She hears Arya ask._ _

__"No," Jon replies, "nothing."_ _

__She hears Arya say something before Jon closed the door, but she couldn't make out what it is; she instead exhales deeply before hurrying to her bed. She can hear her heart thrumming in her ears and out of her chest. She, as quietly as possible, closes her door and locks it behind her, pulling the furs over her body and taking deep breaths in an effort to calm her racing heart._ _

_That was close...too close!_

\----------

Sleep will not come easily, she knows.

She thinks that she is back in her room, but instead she's in Robb's, and she is shocked to turn around and see him sitting upright on his bed, his cerulean eyes illuminating in the low candlelight. He opens his mouth to say something but then pauses, rising to watch her. 

It takes but two strides of his powerful legs to reach her, and without thinking she wraps her slender arms around his neck and pulls him down to her, lips crashing together in unbridled passion. She runs her hands down his shirtless torso, feeling the ridges of his muscles under his skin. It is not long after that he follows her lead, tugging her closer roughly, possessively, his peppered kisses just as feverish and his touches just as scorching as she wanted them to be.

She guides Robb's hand down to her cunt only to see him retract in surprise. "Shit," he gasps, feeling the moisture that pooled between her legs. "Fuck, San, you're so _wet_. Your legs…"

_All because I saw_ them, she thinks, but instead begs, "just take it. Please."

_I want to be happy, too._

Robb removes his breeches and pushes up her gown, grasping her hips, and Sansa instinctively curves her legs around his waist. Holding her up with just one hand he makes his way to her entrance, allowing her to sink lower and lower until she is completely filled. Her walls tighten with the sensation and she whimpers, squeaking his name. 

_Oh, oh, gods…_

"Seven hells, Sansa, you feel so good," he groans, kissing her passionately. 

Her body pinned against his door, they develop a steady rhythm, complementing each other accordingly. The feel of him moving inside of her nearly enough to make her come undone -- _feels as good as they looked,_ she thought -- but he releases his hold on her and her legs make their way back to the floor.

" _Robb_ ," she chokes, but he says nothing in return.

He practically tosses her on his bed, Sansa revelling in his forceful, demanding act, the moan escaping her lips caught in Robb's mouth. She gripped the furs, then runs her fingers through his curly hair, finally resting on his back, her hold tightening and releasing with each movement. 

She loves that he did not waste any time. He sucks on her neck, though not hard enough to leave marks, and with a single thrust he is fully inside her again and she desperately wants to wail but decides against it.

_Gods, he feels divine,_ she thinks, scratching his exposed back with her small fingernails, wanting him to get as close to her as physically possible. Robb bites into her shoulder to muffle his growls.

"Sansa…ah, Sansa…" He closes his eyes, his breath hot on her neck.

"Please, Robb…make--make me," she gasps, and suddenly her vision is full of black spots as her walls cave in around his cock. Her sight slowly comes back to her, and she sees a satisfied Robb, smiling at her with such tenderness. He comes after her, warm streaks of white lining her stomach. 

"Will you stay with me," he asks, holding her tightly. "Just for the night?"

"Yes," _we_ must _do this again_ , "of course."

His grin widens as he falls asleep, though planting a kiss on her cheek before he does. She laid in bed, naked against Robb, but she doubts that sleep will claim her.

Winter is in her veins, but she's on fire…and she'll never look at _anyone_ the same way again.

**Author's Note:**

> This...was a challenge from a friend of mine: Write a story about voyeurism in a fandom of your choice. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Haha, I always appreciate it. :)


End file.
